


Come Back Now

by talefeathers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Brother Feels, Drabble, Gen, Grief/Mourning, No shame november, Sad, Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 10:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12746688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talefeathers/pseuds/talefeathers
Summary: Loki has no grave for Thor to visit, so instead Thor returns to the only place that still feels like home.





	Come Back Now

**Author's Note:**

> For No Shame November, since Grief/Mourning fic is my self-indulgent garbage of choice, I posted a very straightforward prompt call on my Tumblr: "Who's dead/dying and who's fucking crying about it?" So here's the first prompt fill for an anon who wanted Loki dead/Thor crying about it. Enjoy!

Loki had no grave for Thor to visit. Thor had carried his body, heavy and cold, to the skiff that would bear it to rest, and Thor’s had been the first blazing arrow to thud into the vessel’s hull, setting it to burn. No, there was no grave; not for anyone Thor had lost. Instead, he returned, again and again, to the only place that felt like home to him anymore: a windy outcropping in Norway, where his father still appeared sometimes when Thor’s eyes grew weary.

“All right, brother,” Thor would sigh, lowering himself into the tall grass while the ocean murmured a rhythmic chant. “You can come back, now.”

It was only half a joke. Thor had thought Loki dead twice before; surely, if Loki could convince Thor so viscerally that he’d died in his arms once, he could do it again.

Couldn’t he?

_Wouldn’t_ he?

What happened next varied. Sometimes Thor would taunt his brother, assure him that there must be some havoc he could wreak somewhere: a government he could depose for nothing but the fun of it, some precious artifact he could steal for the chaos it would leave in its wake. Sometimes Thor would forgive him: for Thanos, for Odin, for New York. For everything he deserved absolution for, and everything he didn’t. For everything.

Sometimes Thor would weep, head and shoulders bent beneath the weight of what he’d lost. Sometimes thunder mumbled from a darkness on the horizon; sometimes it cracked through the air like a bullet through bone. The rain might whisper or it might drench.

Eventually, however, he would pick himself back up. He would take a deep breath of salty air and slowly let it go.

“All right, brother,” he’d say again, dusting grass and sand from the seat of his pants, walking toward the portal Strange had placed for Thor’s use. “If you’re ever feeling particularly revenge-addled, you know where to find me.”

It was as much of a plea as it was a goad, and it hadn’t worked yet. Still, Thor could never quite convince himself not to try it. 

He probably never would.


End file.
